What He Wouldn't Do
by HarajukuOtaku
Summary: Freddie's thoughts from 11:50 to Midnight. Based on the assumption that they break up at 12, based on the song "What I Wouldn't Do" by A Fine Frenzy. Not a 'repeat-the-lyrics' type of songfic, so please read! Rated T for fun!


**A.N: Got the inspiration from the onslaught of emails I got with people liking "Her Hand", and decided that, along with most of iLMM, we didn't know really what Freddie was thinking in iLY. This whole thing is in his POV, which was weird to write (guys are hard!), but fun. Hope you enjoy it, and if you do (or if you want to tell me how much I suck), please, please review!**

**Oh, forgot to put this on 'Her Hands', so I'll put it here: I don't own iCarly, Freddie, Sam, or the song that I used here, "What I Wouldn't Do", by A Fine Frenzy. It's awesome, listen to it.**

_If we were children, I would bake you a mudpie_

_Warm and brown beneath the sun._

_Never learned to climb a tree, but I would try_

_Just to show you what I'd done._

Trying to impress her wasn't easy. Sam had seen everything—and done everything—even slightly legal (and most things illegal). He tried iCarly videos, his train club (that was a hit), standing up for himself and trying to fight Steven, but nothing he did seemed to make an impact on her.

Of course, it was 11:50 now, and it seemed a little late to be thinking about this. He'd liked Sam for a while, (or, at least he thought he had), longer than she'd liked him. He'd thought about what he could do to win her over; heck, there wasn't much he wouldn't do.

_Oh, what I wouldn't do,_

_If I had you, babe, if I had you_

_Oh, what I wouldn't do_

_If I had you, babe…_

They'd come back from the Groovy Smoothie, trying to enjoy their last few hours before they broke up, but neither one had been thinking about the date. He'd had a running clock in his head, watching the minutes slip away like grains of sand through outstretched hands.

He wondered if they were making the right choice. Everything seemed to go right, for a change; Sam had stopped spewing food when she talked, and he had been less critical. They had tried to spend more time together, and even worked through his mom's best efforts to split them up.

So why had an off-hand comment from Carly to Spencer (not even to them!) been the thing to make them break up? For once, he felt like he didn't have a grasp on the situation. He could only remember one other time he felt so unbalanced. _Funny, it was midnight then too._

His watch beeped. 11:58. Two minutes to go.

_It was now and we were both in the same place,_

_Didn't know how to say the words._

_My heart ticking like a bomb in a birdcage,_

_I left before someone got hurt._

They were standing in front of the doors to Carly's cargo elevator, right where they'd been an hour and a half ago.

"I—" And I could say it. _I don't think we should break up, Sam. I love you._ Somehow, the only part that came out of his mouth was the last part, exactly what he'd said at 10:30. He found himself unable to say the rest. Sam wanted—well, maybe not wanted, exactly—but felt like they should break up, and the last thing he wanted to do was to drag it out. A clean break was best, at least they could still be friends. Couldn't they?

She smiled ruefully. "Love you too, Fredward Benson." It was the first time she'd said his name—his full name—in a while, and he hoped it was a sign that everything would go back to normal.

Did he want it to go back to normal?

'_Cuz it was what I wouldn't do_

_When I had you, babe, I had you._

_But it was what I wouldn't do_

_When I had you, babe…_

"Bye." He couldn't do it. He couldn't ask her to stay. This whole time—these last few months—he had been thinking about how to win Sam over. He never thought about how to get her to stay. He could say it, he supposed. He wouldn't. _Make the right choice, Benson_, he thought. "I'll miss you." He added, as close to a 'please stay' as he would go.

_Beep-Beep-Beep_. _Midnight_, he thought.

She nodded, kissing him lightly on the cheek before going upstairs to the room she basically shared with Carly. He stood there, thinking about why all his breakups ended this way, and what he did in another life to deserve this. His breakup with Carly, at least, hadn't stung. Maybe it wasn't what he'd done. Maybe it was what he didn't do. He never pushed for what he wanted; he never said exactly what he wanted to say.

_When I had you._

**Please Review! It makes me happy! Oh, tell me if Freddie is OOC/sounds like a girl, because guys are hard and I need practice and guidance. Thanks to all who favorited (is that a word?) 'Her Hands' and me! Much love! **


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